But To Fly
by Alicorn
Summary: But flying ..ah..it makes it all worthwhile..." An AU ending to the episode "Wembley's Flight". One-Shot, FINISHED!


**But To Fly...**

The caves of Fraggle Rock that had once rang with the sounds of a fraggle doing what no fraggle alive had ever done before had long ago tucked itself in for the night.

The cave walls with their swirled patterns of limestone and quartz and the long grasses of the mountain top were the only ones that had stood witness, and now held within them to, the memories that were buzzed in Wembley Fraggles' head.

The feeling of grabbing the winds' back, the total freedom of the breeze whipping though fraggle fur as he weaved in lazy circles with the bats and ditzies...

The feeling that there are another world high above, where nothing but tree creatures and those with wings had or would ever set foot in again...

Memories of flying..of flying without wings.

That magical gift his odd old man fair godmother had given him, not once, but three times, to remember always.

"Hi Gobo..." He whispered softly as he creeped into their room at last.

The pink hair toped head, sleeping on the side toward the darkened wall, did not stir.

Wembley laughed to himself even more softly, leaving his friend to rest as he climbed up to his own bed. The feeling of being weightless, soaring among the clouds fresh and icy, rocked him to a peaceful sleep.

* * *

He saw nothing and everything all at once with a blinding wave of sunlight.

"Ah, so you're awake. Took you long enough. It's been morning for a long time you know. My, you are late at _everything_ after all, aren't you?" Came a voice.

Wembley squinted, putting a hand up to shade his eyes as he turned toward the familiar sound.

"Fairy Godmother! What are you doing here in my bed? Why's it so bright?"

The wrinkled and droopy whiskered old man dressed in spider webbing sniffed softly, patting the young fraggle on the shoulder.

"Not quite that smart ether are we? There, there, we'll see to that. _I'm_ not in your bed and nether are _you_ young man. We are both..above. It is very bright here since this is where the ditzies are born. And where spider flies nest for that matter, but you are still too young to..."

"Above? What do you mean above?" For the first time Wembley looked down to see the ground of the great hall, dotted here and there with the moving colored speckles of fraggles, dance and spin hundreds of feet below.

"Ack! But...but..Fairy Godmother. I thought I only got three chances to fly..I mean I wished it and..but if you really...and why now?"

"Ah, you are right, you did get the chance to fly three times, and you did fly..as a fraggle."

The odd old man pulled the faded brown notebook from the folds of his web crowned cape for the 2nd time in the last two days, marking on it with ancient looking pencil.

"As a..fraggle? I don't understand..." Wembley peeped.

"It's like my husband always says, children these days have no respect for rules, bless their hearts." The godmother mummered to himself, pulling an arm around Wembley again.

"Now, I will say this very slowly and only once, as I told you about the balance of the magic before: You were once a fraggle but you aren't any longer. I tried to make you hurry up but you simply would not listen! When wishes are not used up in a timely matter there is a _price_ to be paid. And when you keep them to yourself, within yourself for too long, that price is.._you_."

The odd old mans smile was gentle and sympathetic as Wembley's own wrinkled into tears.

"Now, now, I can't stand crying, stop that crying..You do not see me crying do you? I'll have you know I too once wished to fly, and was too slow. Why do you think I was pushing you so much?"

"You..you..did? What were you..before?"

Wembley looked up, to see his fairy godmother's old man face had melted into the form of a kindly looking old lady fraggle with light silver hair and the same blue skin. Her face scrunched up in disapproval.

"I was a _singing cactus_! What do you _think_ I was?"

"A thimble beetle?" He suggested jokey, and then remembered himself. "So..so..because I wished to fly and didn't use them up right...I look like a fraggle to me but I'm..."

"Because of the nature of your wish, you are a spider-fly like me. You can always choose some other flying form if you wish it, but I must warn you, half of those might find you as my breakfast."

"Oh...so I'm a spider-fly?" Wembley asked.

"Yes."

"A magical spider-fly, who grants wishes?" Wembley continued, flipping himself upside down in the air.

"Yes..and with the proper training yes." The fairy godmother said with a sigh.

"Oh wow! I can't wait to tell Gobo!" Wembley yelled happily, hopping up in the air so quickly that his fraggle form even to the godmother beside him

skipped with a shower of sparkles into the tiny winged form of a greenbottle colored spider-fly.

The fairy godmother sighed again, whipping around and shrinking back into her large winged self in a flash.

"Gobo, Boober, Mokey, Red! Up here!" Wembley squealed at the top of his lungs above their heads as he spotted the at the foot of Wonder Mountain.

The tiny drama of a larger spider-fly finally catching up to the smaller and pulling at one of its' legs a few feet above them was lost to the group of earthbound fraggles below them.

"As of now, you can never speak to your friends again."

Wembley shook his many eyed head, opening his mouth to speak again and dive forward, when the older fly grabbed three of his legs, holding him back easily.

"You are a magical spider fly now, not just a fraggle who can do a magic trick whenever you feel like it!"

Wembley shook his head silently, for the first time close enough to hear the sound of all his friends crying, their heads bowed around something he couldn't see.

Mixed into the tears was the low tones of Mokey whispering a prayer.

"They can't hear you. It takes hundreds of years to become good enough at controlling the magic to even take on another form other living creatures can see and hear and grant wishes..."

Your old life is gone Wembley..."

His many sets of eyes widened as Boober gently placed his extra banana tree shirt over the spot, and Red sobbed into Gobo's vest.

"And to your friends, so are _you_."

Gobo's eyes were dry in a grief beyond tears, bloodshot and tried, his whisper weighted with guilt.

"Oh Wembley..why didn't we listen to you?"

No one heard the whispered reply..the tiny voice that came from nowhere and everywhere, from the place where ditzies are born and dreams of flying without wings nest...

"Don't..don't..be sad..Gobo...I flew, I flew... _twice_."

* * *

From the time of Wembley's death onward, into the days of Gobo's children and great grand children,

the small two bed cave they had once shared was well known to have a most curious looking web in the far corner..where a bright green spider-fly lived.

Somehow, Gobo's great grand daughter Red could swear by the way it bathed the days when snare blossoms bloomed with a tiny green glow, it was almost..magical.


End file.
